


Woof

by Skybloodfox



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Connor is needy and he wants Hank's attention, Hi I'm Connor the anroid from cyberlife, I don't know how androids work, I'm so sorry, M/M, Orgy, Pet Play, References to Drugs, and then RK900 gets wind of what's going on, look just a lot of fun times and sex, questionable canon, so much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skybloodfox/pseuds/Skybloodfox
Summary: Connor and Hank are in a relationship. Hank becomes really busy with a case and Connor thinks Hank doesn't want him anymore. Connor discovers pet play. Connor wears a collar and fuzzy dog ears. There is a lot of sex. RK900 learns what Hank and Connor are up to and joins in the fun. Gavin is brought along too.





	Woof

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played this game. Everything I know about it comes from Tumblr and the fanfics here. I've written this instead of focusing on my 100+ WIPs.

Hank and Connor have been in a relationship for eight-point-nine months. They’ve been intimate for the past three and a half months. In that time Connor has discovered Hank preferred to be on top, he’s grown to love listening to the lieutenant  grunts into his ear, the way his cock spreads him open and fucks him. He loves listening to his heartbeat calm after a round of sex.

They have sex every three days. Connor wants more but Hank mutters he’s not twenty anymore. Connor settles for early morning blow jobs, often waking up the lieutenant.

Then it’s every four days. Then six. Then nothing for eight. Connor begs Hank to fuck him but Hank mutters he’s too busy with the new case; which he is. He’s working long hours and Connor is the one who goes home to walk and feed Sumo.

They haven’t had sex in three weeks and Connor thinks he’s going to die. Not technically, but he recognises that the artificial endorphin high he gets from coming, the little glitches that spike through his processing core when it’s a good orgasm, can be addictive.

He wonders if maybe Hank doesn’t like him anymore, which leaves him wondering what does Hank like? He runs through a series of diagnostics and things he’s noticed about the lieutenant until he settles on one obvious answer: Hank likes dogs.

Connor wants Hank to like him.

There has to be a way to combine them he thinks so he spends hours on the net searching for ways to entice the man and finally settles on something called ‘pet play’. It’s a branch of BDSM, something Connor doesn’t know too much off but something else he needs to investigate when he finally has the lieutenant’s attention once more.

He reads everything he can about it: researching, and when it comes time for the scenarios, he mentally runs several simulations to see how Hank would respond, how he would respond. They all end up sexually satisfied.

He waits until the weekend when he knows Hank has two days off before he launches his plan into action late Friday night when they’re settled together on Hank’s bed, and Hank is watching sports on his phone.

Connor pushes off of the man and slips into the bathroom. Hank hasn’t noticed and Connor gets his things ready before he returns to the bed when he crawls on his hands and knees towards the man and he leans close enough to lick Hank.

“Fuck, Connor, what are you doing?” Hank shoves Connor away and Connor _whines_. The sound is high pitched, pathetic, it makes Hank pause. He finally looks away from his phone and looks Connor up and down.  “The hell was that…” the words die in his throat when he finally notices the dog ears on Connors head, the too loose choke chain around his neck that dangles against the pink flesh of his neck, the way his hips sway as he peers up at Hank from his spot on the bed.

Connor doesn’t answer. Well, he does, but it’s another whine in his throat and Connor’s eyes momentarily glaze as he notes the increased heart rate, the sudden indrawn of breath, the way Hank’s eyes blow wide in arousal. He watches as Hank unconsciously licks his lips as the man’s gaze run over Connor’s naked body again.

“ _Oh_.”

Connor bows his head, crawling forward to nuzzle the lieutenant’s arm with the side of his cheek, marvelling in how the arm hair feels against his smooth skin. He can feel Hank’s skin warming and he creeps closer, moving up the muscle, his mouth ghosting over the taste of skin and flesh and the soap Hank briskly uses in the shower.

He can taste his salt underneath the chemicals and Connor makes a mental note to order organic soap, something that will feel better and not taste as sour as the brand soap.

Eventually Connor reaches Hank’s chest, he breathes in deep, whining again low in his throat, as he finally looks up and meet’s Hank’s eyes.

They stare at one another, Connor’s eyes flickering back and forth between Hank’s, trying to read the expression on the man’s face until he sees that smile, the way his upper lip curls when he’s found something that solves a case or when he’s caught a perp red-handed. Connor doesn’t move as a large hand draws up and touches the edge of the dog ears, fox ears. Connor suddenly wishes he’d bought the reflexive ones that would synch with his mood but he didn’t know if Hank would be interested so he stays there, on his hands and knees, feeling his skin warm as Hank strokes his ears, his fingers squeezing the soft material between his fingers.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Hank murmurs and Connor tilts his head, frowning. He doesn’t understand but Hank smirks again before he chuckles and lets go of Connor’s ears.

He doesn’t stop the shiver as those fingers slid down through his hair, tracing the shell of his ear and then drag slowly across his neck where his pulse point should be. Connor shifts, a little alert flashing up in his view and telling him he needs to breathe to cool his rising internal temperature. He lets out a breath, wondering why it’s so loud, wondering if Hank thinks it’s loud, as fingers move and touch the steel of the choke chain.

“You lost, dog?” Hank’s voice is low and rough, the words a rumble amongst the pounding rain outside.

Connor imagines himself perking up, he pictured himself as being obedient, but something strange is happening and more alerts are popping up that he swats away like an annoying fly. He’s stilled and his eyes wide. He can feel, _hear_ , Hank curl his fingers into the steel end loop of the choke chain, he can hear the way it metal slowly click as Hank tightens it, curling his hand around the loose chain as Hank watches him from behind hooded eyes.

“Speak,” Hank orders, his voice cool and controlled and Connor whines again. The chain tightens just a bit, two links. “I said, _speak._ ”

“ _Woof_.” Connor stumbles over the word, his tongue heavy, his mouth struggling to catch up. This wasn’t how he pictured it, how he had run the simulations of himself and Hank. There’s something else happening and Connor doesn’t understand what it is. It’s making him shake, little quakes running through his body.

He remembers to breathe in through his nose and out his mouth. His internal temperature runs hot.

“Again.”

“Woof, woof.” Connor barks. He dips his head. He doesn’t understand why he wants to hide his face and not see Hank’s face right then. This is so different then when they normally have sex. Connor desperately wants to be on his back.

“Good dog,” the words are a rasp and Connor lifts his head, eyes wide. Hank’s watching him, that smile in place, and Connor whines in response. And then Hank shifts and Connor watches as the man slips out of bed, never letting go of his choke chain.

His eyes follow the rumpled creases of the man’s sleeping shirt and boxers, his eyes tracing the slight stomach pressing against the shirts material, and the hair arms and legs. His eyes fall to the man’s boxers and the tent against the fabric. Connor whines again, uncertain, as Hank tugs on the chain around his neck.

“Off the bed.”

Connor goes to get on his feet but Hank’s grip is tight, jerking him down against the sheets. Connor stills for a moment before he looks up, almost shying away when he sees the stern expression on Hank’s face, the way his lips pinch together beneath his beard, the way his eyebrows tug together. Connor wants to sooth it away.

“Off the bed. _Dog._ ” Hank repeats and Connor blinks, his light twirling blue then yellow as he realizes what Hank wants.

On his hands and knees, Connor slides off of the bed. He can hear the faint murmur coming from Hank and something twills in Connor. He saves and locks away that sound, keeping it for himself and himself only. He lands on the carpet, looking up at Hank expectantly.

“Good boy,” Hank’s other hands move to stroke Connor’s head and Connor leans into the touch, letting the words wash over him. He smiles up at the lieutenant, _woofing_ again.

“Let me have a look at you,” Hank drops down next to him with a groan as he settles on his knees. He runs his hand  down Connor’s back, like he was petting him. Connor shivers at the touch, his cock aching against the fabric of his shorts. Hanks hands are brisk, but curious, and Connor begins to pant. The hand has moved further down and it tugs on the hem of his shorts. Connor tries to wiggle free and the chain tightens, holding Connor in place.

“Don’t move.” Hank growls and Connor whines. He doesn’t move.

Soon Hank tugs down his underwear, dragging them down his thighs and Connor shivers, spreading his legs wider, arching his hips as the briefs pool around his knees on the floor. Hank’s hand runs back up his smooth legs and Connor can’t stop the gasp from escaping his mouth at the touch. Especially when Hank’s hand moves and settles on a cheek, his fingers resting there, inches from the cleft of Connor’s ass.

Connor wills it to move and touch it, or to move down and touch his erection. He just wants to be touched so _badly_ and by something other than his own hand. He whines, looking to Hank, trying desperately to tell him what he wants but Hank’s watching him.

“Roll over.” Hank orders, his voice like rough gravel.

Obediently, and mindful of the hold on the choke chain around his neck, Connor moves, rolling onto his side. He kicks away his underwear and lets his legs fall open, exposing his needy cock, bringing his hands up to curl against his chest, panting as he notices the bulge in Hank’s boxers had gotten bigger.

He wants to taste it so badly.

Hank moves next to him, getting comfortable and Connor moans as Hank rests a hand against his smooth belly.

“You know,” Hank beings casually, his fingers trailing teasingly up Connor’s chest to fan over his nipples. Connor jerks at the touch. He struggles to listen to Hank. “Given the way you’re panting and whining, wanting my attention, I thought you were a little bitch.”

Connor blinks at Hank, uncertain, then quickly catching the term and knowing it meant several things; a female dog, a term to describe a woman, and a way to describe men— _oh_.

He whines in his throat as Hank rubs his thumb lazily over the brown areola.

 “Thought maybe you were in heat. Is that it, Puppy? You’re  a little bitch in heat? You want to be fucked?” Hank coos and Connor squeezes his eyes shut, his body flushing with heat, something that holds the trademarks of _shame_ run through him. He doesn’t like that, but he likes Hank’s voice and the way it makes his cock twitch.

“Would any cock do, Puppy? Should I give Galvin a call? Maybe Rk900?” Hank continues.

Connor shakes his head. The chain tightens. He whines instead. He wants Hank. He only wants Hank.

“You want to be my little bitch? Begging and on your knees whenever and wherever?” Hank murmurs, his voice dropping.

Connor shakes as the hand rubs against his nipple, sparks of pleasure shooting through his system. He licks his lips, feeling hot and weak and a dozen alerts popping up in his view. He ignores them all. He ignores them and focuses on the way Hank’s hand stops and moves down his belly, making Connor moan. He raises his head, watching almost bewildered as Hank’s hand stop inches from touching his cock. The simulations never left Connor feeling like he did then.

“ _Speak_.” Hank commands.

“ _W-W-Woof,”_ the sound is weak, wrecked in Connor’s throat. It’s getting hard to focus. He looks up to Hank, pleading silently as he lifts his hips.

Hank gives him a considering look, like he’s a crime scene and there are bits of evidence only he can see before he brings up his own hand a licks his palm, pausing only to spit into it. Connor frowns in confusion. Why was he—and then Hank grabs his cock and strokes it from root to tip, and Connor is arching into the touch, crying out, his voice cracking. Hank sets a frantic pace, the sound of wet slapping filling the bedroom. There’s a pressure in Connor, it’s in his belly, it’s in his chest. The hand holding his choke chain moves and spreads across his chest, keeping him there, holding him in place.

It’s been so long Connor doesn’t try and stop the cries from spilling out. He bucks into the hand with wanton desire and just _drowning_ in the sensations Hank is giving him. It’s too much, it’s not enough, and he wanted something _more._

“ _H-Hank, ple-please_ ,” Connor breaks character and reaches for Hank’s hand around his dick only for Hank to let release his choke chain and cock.  He chokes, startled and looks up to the man. Hank’s face is blank, but Connor feels like he just did something wrong and he doesn’t know what it is.

“Bad Puppy.” Hank warns, his voice a low growl.

Connor swallows, searching Hank’s gaze.

“When puppies don’t obey, they don’t get their reward.” Hank pulls back. He braces his hands against his thighs and sits up with a groan. He shuffles backward and sits on the edge of the bed.

Connor’s mouth parts and he catches Hank’s gaze and he _whines_ , desperate as he rolls onto his hands and knees. He butts his forehead against Hank’s hairy knee, looking up and needy and so aroused he doesn’t know what to do with his body. He stills when he sees Hank hand slip into his underwear, slowly jerking himself.

Connor wants it. He shuffles closer, gaze hyper-focused on Hank’s concealed cock. This close, he can smell the musk and sweat and something that makes Connor shake. Hank’s other hand comes and pushes against his forehead, stopping him from coming any closer.

“Bad Puppy,” Hank pants, his cheeks flushing red as he stares down at Connor. “Someone is going to need to train you.”

Connor lowers his lashes, he nods. His own hands move to stroke his cock and Hank’s hand is gone from his forehead and Connor’s face is red hot from the slap to his cheek. He startles, looking up at Hank with wide eyes, but Hank’s hand is already there, gently rubbing the skin. Connor leans into the touch, his hand moving to cup his cock once more when Hank slaps his cheek again and Connor can feel his cheek warm, startled and worried and uncertain as he catches Hank’s gaze.

“No touching yourself. You didn’t earn it.” Hank murmurs, squeezing one eye shut as he lifts his hips, hunching forward.

Connor wants to cry. He wants to shake his head and jerk himself off and release that pressure but Hank’s hand is warm against his cheek, comforting, warning and instead he watches as the man throws his head back and comes with a long, low, moan, his hand shaking before finally slowing. Hank flops back onto the bed, panting, his hand tugging his spent cock inside his boxers before he removes his hand. Something inside of Connor snaps at the sight and he tries to lean forward to taste some of the sticky white clinging to the man’s hand but Hank wipes his hand clean against his sheet instead.

Connor whines, rocking back and forth on his hands and knees at the sight. He wanted it. He wanted to taste it. It should have been his.

Eventually, Hank raises himself up and gives Connor a bemused looked mingled with curiosity. He licks his lips and pushes himself off of the bed, walking past Connor and heading for the bathroom. Connor shifts, uncertain of what to do next. This wasn’t part of any simulation he planned so he waits, moving to curl his knees beneath him, his head dropping and staring at his erection. It was still hard, and he can’t fight the sudden shiver as he remembered Hank’s hand touching it.

Hank emerges sooner then Connor realises and he perks up, looking up. Hank is drying his hair with a towel, his eyes running over Connor’s form. He drops the towel to the floor and approaches Connor, looking down at him.

Connor’s lashes flatter, he’s trembling again. He’s so hard it hurts and there’s a warning that he could glitch if he doesn’t come soon because so much processing power is going to his painful dick.

“ _Woof_.” Connor tries.

“On the bed, puppy,” Hank snaps his finger and Connor immediately climbs on top the sheet, presenting himself to Hank. He peers back over his shoulder but Hank’s hands are on his hips and Connor finds himself rolled onto his back, his legs spread wide. But all that worry disappears as Hank cups his cock, his fingers rubbing against the veins while they move down and slip into his already slick ass.

Connor shudders and moans low and deep.

“You’re going to come for me, you’re going to tell me why you chose pet play, and then we’re setting the rules,” Hank whispers and Connor nods.

He couldn’t agree more.

He comes sooner then he imagines, rocking back on Hank’s thick fingers, moaning as he fucks the calloused hand. It’s delicious and afterwards, Connor lies on the sheets, his LED fluttering like a trapped bird as he struggles to process everything that just happened.

He wishes Hank had come inside of him. He likes how it drips out afterwards.

 

* * *

 

 

“We don’t have sex for three weeks and you think I stopped wanting you?” Hank’s voice is incredulous and Connor looks away, his cheeks tinged blue. Hank is sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Connor stands before him, completely naked, his hands behind his back. He still wears the dog ears and choke chain.

“I know human affection can sometimes change swiftly, and I wasn’t sure if you have tired of me given how you had me so often early on.” Connor explains. Hank sighs.

“Connor, my affection,” Hank waves his hand, “isn’t going to change with you. Alright? I’m sorry I got distracted with work. Now tell me why you chose those ears and choke chain.”

Connor shrugs. “You like dogs. I thought if I was a dog, you’d like me too.”

“I like you plenty, you idiot.” Hank mused. When he didn’t continue, Connor glanced at him. Hank was watching him with a tilt of his head. “How did it feel? Being a dog?”

Connor shifts on his feet. His lashes flutter and he bits his bottom lip. “It… it felt… different. Good.”

Hank’s lips twitch. “Yeah? You looked pretty horny last night.”

“I was running hot,” Connor shrugged again. At Hank’s blank response, Connor continues. “What I mean is that my internal temperatures were running hotter then average, and I experienced several moments where I couldn’t describe the sensations but they felt good. We don’t have to engage in pet play again if you don’t want to.”

“But you want to.” Hank pointed out.

Connor hesitated. “Y-yes. If that is okay, I would like to do it again. With you.”

Hank slowly smiled. “I think we can do that.”

 

* * *

 

Hank establishes rules for them: Connor can’t touch himself with Hank’s permission. Connor wears the choke chain and dog ears inside the house only. After the third time, when Connor is dipping his fingers in his ass and bringing the cum coated digits to his mouth, licking them like a treat, Hank groans.

It’s certainly done wonders for their sex life and Connor has already made a list of other scenarios for them to try. In fact, Hank seems to enjoy it so much, he comes home one day with a gift. A small velvet box.

Connor opens it with reverence.

“I told them I had a dog, pretty thing, nice and obedient.” Hank says, his voice low and rumbling as Connor traces the leather collar inside the box. There’s a small metal tag with Connor’s name on it and Hank’s phone number on the back.

Hank’s breath hitches and Connor smiles.

“Thank you, Hank. I love it.” Connor leans forward and kisses Hank. When the part, Hank’s heart rate has increased and Connor turns around, tugging at the neck of his shirt. “Can you put it one please? I would like to wear it.”

“Going to put me in an early grave,” Hank growls and Connor shivers as the leather slides into place.

They fuck on the kitchen floor.

 

* * *

 

They carry on like this for two months. Connor is beyond pleased. Hank is back to the amount of sex. Furthermore, Connor _is_ obedient. He does as Hank asks. He crawls around on his hands on knees in the house, offering himself whenever he can. Hank calls him a whore, a slut, and Connor just moans as calloused hands manhandle him and touch him and fuck him.

It’s gotten to a point where Connor is slightly distracted at work. He’s tracing his neck where his collar normally sits when Fowler asks him and RK900 to look at some video. Apparently the techs aren’t having any luck with it and thought maybe the two stations androids would work.

RK900 is taller than Connor, and Connor isn’t afraid to admit that RK900 needs to loosen up, but nonetheless, they have to work together to solve the case.

The fact that the video in question is a sex tape doesn’t help.

RK900 leans closer to the screen, his blue eyes noting every detail. Connor leans closer too as the audio finally turns on.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

 _Oh._ Connor swallows. He ignores RK900’s sideways glance.

The two people on screen are engaged in pet play. Connor shifts minutely on his seat as the person, the ‘dog’ does something and the other person gets angry.

“Bad dog! Bad! Did I say you could come? _Bad!_ ”

Connor _whines_ and RK900 looks at him curiously. Connor looks away, his cheeks tinting blue before he slips out of the room and makes a bee-line for the men’s bathroom. It’s empty inside and he heads for one of the closed stalls. He needs to text Hank. He needs his help—he’s not allowed to cum, not without the lieutenant’s  permission and he’s aching and—he almost closes it when a hand grabs the door frame and forces it open.

Connor freezes as RK900 stares down at him, a cold and calculating look in his blue eyes.

“You left before the video was finished processing.”

Connor’s lashes flutter, he doesn’t mean them to, nor does he mean to sense his cheeks blushing. He ignores the prompt asking if it wants run a diagnostic and Connor closes it as quickly as it popped up.

“I saw enough.” Connor says. His voice wavers. RK900 steps into the stall and closes the door behind him. Connor stumbles backward until he’s pressed into the corner and RK900 leans closer, his face inches from Connor’s. So close, Connor can count the lashes and hair of his eyebrows.

“You’re blushing.” RK900 says bluntly.

“My internal temperature has been running high for the past few days,” Connor lies. RK900 raises an eyebrow. “It’s from running a variety of scenarios and multiple case file information in the background.” Connor babbles. RK900 raises both eyebrows. “As soon as we finish the case I can cool down and—”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

Connor blinks slowly. His LED flashes yellow and blue in a dizzying mirage of colours.

RK900 moves his head, his mouth hovering near Connor’s ear. “What have you and the Lieutenant been up to, hm?”

A quick gasp slips past Connor’s lips and he shoves against RK900’s chest. Well, he tries to. RK900 doesn’t move. Instead he lifts his head, a knowing glint in his eye. Before Connor can process it, which is startling because he can process things fairly damn quickly, he finds himself spun around and with his cheek pressing against the cool wall; a variety of notes and details flash in his vision of sweat and urine where men’s hands braced against the wall while the pissed into the toilet beneath him. He whimpers as RK900 crowds against him, pressing against his body.

Too familiar hands rest on his hips before the move to the front and Connor looks down, bewildered as the unbutton his pants and shove them down his half thigh, revealing his rock-hard erection. It tilts up, desperate and needy and Connor trembles, his knees wanting to give out as RK900’s hands frame his dick.

“Quit the little deviant, aren’t you?” RK900’s voice is like pure velvet against his ear and Connor shudders as he cups his cock and balls in his hands. He unwillingly bucks into the grip, another gasp slipping past his lips at the sensation as he tries to lean away from the hands but RK900 is hard against him.

“P-Please, I’m not, no,” Connor whispers, tilting his head slightly, trying to catch RK900’s gaze. “I’m not supposed to cum on my own,” Connor finally whines.

RK900 rests his head on Connor’s shoulder and looks down, watching as he slowly jerks Connor’s cock, rubbing his thumb against the slit, and Connor slaps his own hand over his mouth, desperately keeping back the whimpers and moans.

“Show me what you and the Lieutenant have been up to,” RK900 murmurs.

Connor’s eyes widen. He shakes his head. He can’t, he can’t do that, he can’t—

“Show. Me. Or else I’ll send video of this to him myself.” RK900 purrs, leisurely pumping Connor’s cock, holding him tight as Connor’s hips lift and thrust against his hand.

Shakily, Connor reaches out as RK900 lets go of gently stroking his balls. Their hands touch, their skin turning white and Connor squeezes his eyes shut, showing RK900 the videos of himself and Hank, the training, the obedience, the collars, the baths. Connor whines, unable to help himself as he remembers how good the man tastes, the weight of his cock on his tongue.

RK900 stills behind him before a low groan spills past his lips. Suddenly he breaks the connection and Connor finds himself alone in the stall, RK900 leaving, the bathroom door slams shut behind him. Connor whimpers, alone and disjointed and horribly, _horribly_ , aroused. He can’t stop shaking. He can’t leave the stall. He slumps onto the seat, his pants pooling around his feet on the floor.

He sends a text message to Hank’s phone, begging him to come to the bathroom.

‘ _pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl01010101ease0111000111011,_ ’ the letters mingle with raw zeros and ones and Connor squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to cool his temperature and the way his sensors are overloaded with touch and ache and raw need.

He’s so distraught, he doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, or it lock. He only looks up when the stall to his door is pushed open and he meets Hank’s eyes.

“P-P-P-Please,” Connor stutters, the words hanging in a glitch. It’s too much. It’s too overwhelming. His cock hurts and his hands are pressing against his knees, rubbing the flesh.

Hank enters the stall and closes it. His lips are thinned as he steps closer. One hand goes to cover his mouth and Connor cocks his head, parting his lips and swallowing the fingers instead. He moans, tasting coffee and sweat and ink on Hank’s hands. Hank reaches down and squeezes his cock. Connor lets his legs fall open, tilting his head back, his eyes sliding shut as he sucks the man’s fingers and bucks into the large, warm, hand stroking his cock.

He comes with a jolt, his LED flashing blue and yellow and rose red, his lashes fluttering as his core finally overheats and he feels _hot_ and sticky. A million responses course through his body, dancing just under his skin and Connor moans, raising and lifting his hips with wanton, wallowing in the pure electricity surging through his core as it washes over him and he slumps forward, resting against Hank’s stomach.

Hands curl through his hair, and he can register Hank softly muttering to him, but Connor just nuzzles the mans stomach, loving the feeling of tactile clothing against his skin. Is this what it’s like to be drugged? He lifts his head, smiling up at Hank.

Hank rubs his cheek, smearing the lubricant Connor calls cum across his cheek bone. Connor doesn’t mind. He watches as Hank leans back just slightly and reaches for his zipper. Connor smiles brightly as Hank pulls out his hard cock and parts his lips, sighing happily as the hand in his hair pushes him to take it. He shuts his eyes and wraps his arms around Hank’s hips, swallowing and bobbing his head as Hank groans above him.

 

* * *

 

“Does RK900 have a dog?”

Connor blinks. He’s stretched out in bed with Hank, his head resting on the man’s chest, listening to his heart and counting the number of beats, running it through a variety of diagnostics to see if the arrhythmia is from the latest round of sex or if Hank needs to see a doctor.

Connor thinks it’s from the sex.

Still, he makes a note to make Hank see a doctor.

“I don’t think so. I haven’t noticed any trace of dog hair on him. Why?” Connor glances up at Hank. Hank is flicking through his phone, frowning.

“He’s asked if we could have a puppy play date. He wants to bring over his dog and play with mine.”

Connor slowly blinks before he flushes blue and presses his check back to Hank’s chest. He prays the detective doesn’t notice.

Hank notices.

“Connor?”

Connor squeezes his eyes shut.

“Connor.”

He can hear Hank set the phone on the bed and soon thick fingers curl into his hair and pull back. Connor tries to fight the pull but Hank pulls harder and Connor whimpers, tilting his head up to catch the man’s gaze.

Hank’s eyes are narrowed, his lips thinned.

“Speak.”

Connor looks away. He tries to resettle against Hank’s chest but the man won’t let him move. He fans his hand along the broad chest, his fingers sinking into the white chest hair.

“We, RK900, and I, we were asked to examine a video and see if we could find any sort of detail. And, and, it was, ah, it was a bondage video with two humans pretending to be dogs and I just-just…” Connor faltered.

“Connor.”

Connor squeezes his eyes shut. “So I went to the bathroom because I-I, watching it made me feel, feel, _hot_ ,” he struggled with the word, “and RK900 followed me and he cornered me in the stall and he, he groped me and demanded to see what we do, or else he’d send you a feed him touching me, and I know you can be possessive,  and he saw and groaned and left,” Connor finished.

When Hank didn’t response, Connor peeked an eye open. The lieutenant’s eyes were slightly glazed over and Connor could hear his heart rate increasing.

“RK900 touched you?”

“Yes.”

Hank rolls them both over suddenly and Connor gasps as Hank attacks his neck and chest.

Hank doesn’t let him cum until Connor is a thrashing, begging, sobbing mess.

 

* * *

 

Hank organizes the play date to take place at a hotel. He’s not letting RK900 enter their home.

Connor feels the wave of shame as he fidgets in the bedroom. RK900 and his ‘puppy’ are already in the bathroom, they were there before Hank and Connor arrived. Connor shifts on the floor next to the hotel couch where Hank sits. Hank rests his hand on Connor’s neck, just above his leather collar. He still has the fox ears, and he’s completely naked.

The bathroom door opens and Connor looks toward it.

“Holy shit,” Hank laughs as RK900 walks out of the bathroom holding a leash in his hand.

Gavin crawls on his hands on knees next to him, his gaze averted to the floor, a tight collar around his bared throat that the leash connects to. He’s wearing a leather mask shaped to look like a dogs head with straps going around his head and producing two years, a mask around his eyes like a raccoon, and a partially opened dog muzzle. Connor can already see some drool starting to drip onto the floor from the masks mouth.

Rk900 stops three feet from Hank and Connor. He tugs on the leather leash. “Stop.”

Gavin stills. He doesn’t look up, but the flush around his face is spreading down his neck and across his shoulders.

“So, this is your ‘puppy’?” Hank smirks.

“Yes. He can be rather disobedient, but a firm hand has done wonders when it’s come to his training.” RK900 purrs. Connor watches as Gavin shudders, shifting on his knees. His cock half hard beneath him.

“I bet it has.” Hank chuckles.

Hands curl in Connor’s hair and he looks up from his place next to Hank’s feet.

“What do you say, Connor? You want to go play with RK900’s dog?” Hank sooths him like he pet and Connor leans into the touch in his hair. He nods silently.

“Speak.”

“Woof.” Connor says the word. He can feel RK900’s gaze on him but he ignores it. He wants Hank’s attention.

“Go play,” Hank let’s go of his hair and sits back onto the couch.

Connor turns to RK900 and Gavin, almost dizzy as RK900 kneels next to Gavin and holds tight to the leash, whispering quietly to him.

“Be a good dog and you’ll get your treat, or else you’ll be punished and spend the night in the crate.”

Gavin nods. More drool drips from the mouth of the mask.

 RK900 unhooks the leash and loops it into his head. He steps back. “Play nice, puppy.”

Gavin grunts in affirmation, and Hank chuckles. Rk900 walks towards Hank and Connor and without a word sinks onto the couch with a sigh. Connor moves onto his hands and knees, suddenly uncertain. What should he do? Does he crawl towards Gavin? Does Gavin crawl toward him? He gets his answer when Gavin moves toward him and Connor mimics him. They pause and Gavin finally raises his head. His pupils are blown wide, but the way he quickly looks away when he meets Connor’s gaze tells him that Gavin is feeling shamed but aroused.

He wonders how RK900 made Gavin do this.

Gavin whines, his voice muffled like there’s something in his mouth. He paws at the carpet, lightly butting his ears against Connor’s shoulders. Connor squirms, clenching his ass against nothing.

“I think he wants to see you, Connor. Roll onto your back.” Hank says, his voice is low, rough.

Connor obediently stretches and moves to roll onto his back, exposing himself, his cock hard against his belly, lying bare before Gavin. Gavin is still’s, his breathing increasing.

Gavin moves closer, running the mouth of his mask against Connor’s belly and waist, moving down to his hips, smearing drool where it collects on Connor’s pristine skin. He moves closer to Connor’s erection.

“Gavin. On your back.” Rk900’s voice cuts in and Gavin hesitates. He looks up. Connor follows his gaze. It’s weird and strange to see himself look annoyed, tense. “On. Your. Back.” RK900 orders again.

Gavin whines, the sound garbled but he moves, sighing in relief as he rolls onto his back. He knees and hands red and impressed from the carpets fabric. Connor rolls onto his hands and knees and mimics Gavin’s actions, rubbing his nose and cheek against Gavin’s skin, feeling how warm it is, his pounding heart, the way Gavin squirms beneath him. Connor moves closer then pauses as he catches sight of the cock ring around Gavin’s cock.

“He has to wear that or else he’ll come too quickly.” Rk900 answers. Hank snickers next to him.

“They seem to be getting along well,”

“They are, aren’t they?” Hank leans back on the sofa.

There’s something in the air, it’s making Connor’s skin itch. He’s watching RK900 and Hank as they exchange a knowing glance.

“Can I—”

“I’m not breeding my bitch with your mutt,” Hank says flatly.

Gavin whines breathlessly beneath Connor. His cock is throbbing and hard against his belly.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” RK900 tilts his head. “But he’s hard, and he’s going to stay hard until I say so. Isn’t that right, Puppy?” RK900 nudges Gavin’s side with his shoe and Gavin moans at the touch.

Connor blinks slowly, watching as sweat breaks out on Gavin’s body. He’s trembling and hard. Connor’s eyes widen at the realization.

“I fed him two Viagra’s an hour ago. He’s going to be an incoherent mess soon if past activities are to be understood.”

“So you want him to fuck?” Hank frowns.

“He doesn’t fuck me,” RK900 shrugs. “He needs to fuck something other than my hand. I’m thinking maybe it’ll keep him in line.”

“He’s not cumming in Connor.”

“No. I’ll pull him out before he can.”

Connor looks to Hank, uncertain. Hank watches him before he nods and leans forward.

“Roll onto your hands and knees and let Gavin mount you, okay?”

Connor whines, pawing at the carpet. Hank’s face softens. “I know. But you’ll like it, and I’ll eat you out for a week. What do you say?”

Connor slowly moves onto hands and knees, trembling as Gavin quickly moves next to him. He looks to Hank, whining softly as Gavin clambers over him, hot flesh pressing against his own skin, the poke of a hot prick against his inner thigh before it catches the ring of muscles and Gavin savagely thrusts into him.

Connor cries out as Gavin grabs him around his chest and waist, popups relaying messages, comparing Gavin’s cock to Hank’s. It’s smaller but oh, Connor finds himself pressed against the floor, Gavin panting behind him, keeping his legs spread as wide as he can as Gavin fucks him with abandon.

 It continues like this. Connor shuts his eyes and imagines it’s Hank fucking him, taking him from behind, drooling onto his back. Connor moans, even as Gavin’s hips stutter for a few seconds before he resumes pumping into Connor.

He wrinkles his nose as Gavin groans behind him. It doesn’t sound like Hank at all. Still, he tries to find some pleasure in Gavin, focusing on the way his cock tugs at Connor’s insides, at the slick sound of his lubricant that seems too loud.

Then something happens and Connor cries out.

 _There_.

Greedily, Connor latches onto the feeling or electricity dancing beneath his skin, moaning and twisting his hips backward, meeting Gavin’s thrusts. He’s not sure how long they do this, but the familiar popups that show up every time he and Hank have sex are flashing in his vision and Connor gleefully ignores them.

Gavin moans, his hips frantically fucking Connor. Connor is wailing beneath him. He’s so sensitive, he’s leaking fluid down his thighs and balls and he can hear it dripping onto the floor every time Gavin’s dick slides out of him before it pushes back in.

Suddenly it stops as Gavin is grabbed by the collar and yanked off of Connor. He whines, wiggling his hip, watching as Gavin rolls onto his back, moaning and humping empty air.

Rk900 slides down next to Gavin, gently shushing him.

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy, you can cum now,” he release the cock ring and pumps Gavin’s cock once before Gavin cries out hoarsely, his back arching before he trashes on the floor, shaking and withering as his belly and chest is covered in thick cum. He collapses against RK900 before his hips start trembling, his erection hard against his belly once more.

Connor looks to see Hank staring down at him. He trembles as Hank grabs him by the arm and hauls him up to the edge of the bed. He’s pressed against the sheet, his feet kicked apart and suddenly Hank’s cock is in him. Connor moans, his eyes glazing over as he catches sight of RK900 watching them greedily.

Connor shuts his eyes and finds himself cumming sooner then he thought. A smug grin covers his face when he feels Hank fill him with semen.

 

* * *

 

Later, when they’re back home and standing in the shower together, Hank running his hands over Connor’s body, Connor mumbling softly, his arms wrapped around Hank’s neck. Hank kisses Connor’s LED.

“You did really good, today.” Hank soothes.

Connor nods, his eyes shut. He loves the aftercare, even though he doesn’t really need it, he loves the attention.

“But, I’m not letting Gavin fuck you again. You’re mine.” Hank growls low in his throat and Connor’s lips twitch. He whines softly and lifts his head, meeting the man’s eyes.

“Woof.”

 

 

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